


Tainted Blood

by townshend



Category: Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-13
Updated: 2011-03-13
Packaged: 2017-10-16 22:16:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/169926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/townshend/pseuds/townshend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Conrad needs to eat. Hanna's blood is tainted, but goddamn is he convincing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tainted Blood

It's hard not to tell that there's something wrong with Conrad. Ever since Hanna arrived to check on him, he's been in the same spot - the artsy-looking armchair, just sitting there, his head lolled back, breathing shallow. Hanna figured at first that Conrad's just tired - he pops popcorn in the kitchen and puts in the movie he brought over to watch and perches himself at Conrad's feet, giving him curious glances every once in a while between handfuls of popcorn going into his mouth.

"Are you okay?" he finally asks, a loud half-whisper as the opening credits to the movie are rolling. Conrad ignores him, trying to focus on the film. Hanna idly traces a finger around the shape of Conrad's shoe.

The movie isn't really interesting. It's definitely not what Hanna had expected. He frowns towards the screen, rattling the few unpopped kernels around in his now-empty bowl.

"Conrad," he says again, that same loud half-whisper. "This is really boring."

Conrad grunts in reply. It's a pretty half-hearted grunt, and Hanna jumps up, seizing his popcorn bowl. He takes it back to the kitchen, glancing towards the screen as he does. Nope. Nothing interesting happening yet.

As Hanna steps back into the living room, Conrad's raised a hand, covering his face with it. It's the first time he's actually moved since Hanna's arrived.

Hanna brightens, marching over.

"Hey!" he says, quiet but not whispering anymore. "Do you have a headache?"

"Can I even get a headache anymore?" Conrad answers. "Forget it, Hanna, just go home."

Hanna frowns. It's pretty clear what's happening here. Reaching over to the remote, Hanna mutes the TV before slipping onto the arm of the chair. Conrad tenses noticeably.

"When was the last time you ate?" Hanna says, carefully. Conrad lets out a sigh. Impressive, considering he doesn't technically have to breathe. Maybe he hasn't figured that out yet.

"None of your business."

Hanna tries to think back - he's been so busy lately that he's really lost track of time. The last time he and Conrad went to Doc Worth had been... sometime last week. And Worth had said that he wouldn't be able to get more until _this_ week, so...

"It hasn't really been a week, has it?" he says, suddenly. "You've-- found some somewhere else, right?"

"Where would I do that?" Conrad replies sharply.

Oh. Crap. Actually, with how long it's been, Conrad's holding up admirably, but...

Hanna bites his lip. He needs to find someone for Conrad to feed from, and quickly. Galahad is out - no blood. Doc Worth? Hanna cringes thinking about somebody actually putting his mouth on that man. When was the last time he'd showered? Lamont hadn't been around for a few days, either, and Hanna wouldn't know how to reach him, anyway... and Toni isn't exactly 100% human, so that could pose a challenge. Would she even agree to something like that? Veser definitely wouldn't.

"Let's go out and see what we can find," he offers. Conrad doesn't react at first until Hanna's collecting his coat. "You ready?"

"I can't move," he says, weakly. Hanna blinks, stepping closer.

"Huh?"

"I said," Conrad repeats, louder this time, "I can't-- I can't _move_ , Hanna. I don't have the strength, okay?"

Hanna sets down his coat again.

"I can go find someone," he offers, slowly. He has no idea _who_ , though. A stranger? Not the best idea...

Conrad shakes his head.

"W-well..." Hanna looks around, frowning. There's really only one option left, in that case. He hesitates before taking another step towards the armchair. "You can use _my_ blood."

Conrad blinks, slowly pulling the hand away from his face. "What?"

"My blood," Hanna repeats. "You could drink from me. It wouldn't be so bad. Enough to get you some strength back. I can get you through until Doc Worth has more for you to eat. Okay?"

Conrad almost laughs.

"There's a really good reason why that's a terrible idea."

"Huh?" Hanna tilts his head, blinking.

"You. You said your blood was _tainted_ ," Conrad says, pointedly.

"Oh. Did I?" Hanna blinks, thinking back. Man, that had been a pretty eventful night. He can't be bothered to remember _everything_ he's said. "But I'm still _human_ ," he points out. Well, probably. "I mean, it might, uhm..." He thinks, frowning. Truth be told, it's not like he's ever fed a vampire before. He doesn't know what the effects will be! "It might taste a little funny. And maybe make you feel weird... --but not sick!" he adds quickly, as Conrad's expression twists.

Conrad wants to say 'no'. He really, really does. But at this point, it's... it's almost impossible for him to refuse. He's beyond starving, and if he doesn't get some blood in him soon, he's never getting out of this chair. He looks away, his eyes hard.

Conrad's always been a big ball of insecurities and anxiety and _issues_. Becoming a vampire didn't change any of that. And Hanna looks genuine enough - his eyes are practically _shining_ , like it's something he really wants to do, and Conrad convinces himself that Hanna just likes helping people _that much_. But why would anyone want to help him? This is his own issue, after all. Does Hanna feel guilty?

"I'm against this," he says, flatly. But he doesn't protest much louder than that. He _can't._ All Conrad can think about is how... intimate it is, so have his mouth pressed against someone's skin, to bite hard enough to draw blood, to _drink_ it. It's-- it's not casual. Does Hanna understand that? Or is it just "eating" to everyone but him?

"I know." Hanna slowly slides onto the armchair. There's not enough room for two of them - Hanna's practically curled up in Conrad's lap, and Conrad tenses again. God, the smell is awful, but when he puts his hand on Hanna's wrist he can feel his pulse against his skin, the blood there shooting through his veins. They've come too far now. Even if he wanted to, he couldn't back down.

"What if I hurt you," Conrad mutters, a last-ditch effort to get out of what he's sure is a terrible idea. Hanna smiles, reaching into his back pocket and retrieving the usual Sharpie. He uncaps it, quickly scrawling something onto his hand.

"I'll warn you," he says, while drawing. "And if that doesn't work, I'll stop you by force."

Good enough. Despite the stench, Conrad feels the bloodlust building inside of him. He hates it, but god, he can't stop it at this point. Hanna leans in closer, tilting his head out of the way, the curve of his neck and collarbone lit up pale in the moonlight coming in from the window. Hanna reaches up, tugging down the collar of his shirt.

"It's okay," he says, quietly. Conrad knows it's _not_ , but he presses his lips against Hanna's skin anyway, trying to stop breathing in the smell. Hanna makes a soft noise that only gets louder when Conrad bites down - the skin breaks, and Hanna squirms, obviously in pain - but right now, Conrad doesn't even care.

He drinks - Hanna's blood doesn't taste like what Worth gives him in bags. How much of that is a difference in taste between fresh and stale, and how much of that is just _Hanna_? It's hot and there's a definite _spice_ to it - like cinnamon, or allspice, but more than that, something he can't describe. Hanna pants while Conrad drinks, and he squirms again, and Conrad can tell that it's bothering him but to what extent?

"Conrad," Hanna says, weakly, after a moment or two. "I-- you-- you should stop."

He hears it, somewhere, but it's like he's too lost to respond. He can't stop drinking. Is he full? He can't really tell. He feels like he could drink forever, like he could drain Hanna dry--

" _Conrad_ ," Hanna says, again. It's quieter this time, but more serious. Conrad wants to stop, somewhere, but he doesn't.

It's not until Hanna lifts the hand he drew on, a weak sort of glow coming from his palm, and smacks it against Conrad's cheek that Conrad suddenly stops, choking on what's in his mouth, pulling back and gasping for air. He doesn't meet Hanna's gaze, but that's alright. Hanna slumps against Conrad's chest, but he's still breathing. That's all that matters. Hanna presses his palm to his neck, likely to try to stop the bleeding - but when he withdraws it, the puncture wounds are already scabbed over, like they've already started to heal. Magic? Conrad watches in wonder. It's probably better that way - if they'd stayed open, and he could still smell it, he wonders how hard it would have been for him to try again.

God. The thought disgusts him.

After a moment, Hanna sits up, still in Conrad's lap, watching him carefully. "Do you feel better?" he asks, quietly.

Sort of. There _is_ something weird about Hanna's blood, that's for sure, and Hanna too - Conrad eyes him with curiosity, but if Hanna's ever going to reveal what it is that sets him apart from other people, he's clearly not going to do it now. Still, there's a sort of buzzing in Conrad's head, and he feels lightheaded and - well, _high_.

But not weak, and not like he's dying. That's a step in the right direction.

"Yeah," he replies, finally. "Thanks."

There's something else, though, too - Conrad can see it in Hanna's eyes, or maybe he can _feel_ it - some sort of unspoken desire, like Hanna liked getting his blood sucked so much that he might be interested in something _else_ , too, and it makes Conrad's stomach jump into his throat.

Hah... can he even _do_ something like that anymore?

"I feel... kind of weak," Hanna says, finally. "I'm... I'm gonna sleep."

Conrad blinks. "You should go see Worth," he says, grudgingly. A trip to the good ol' Doctor does not sound like Conrad's idea of a good time, but... if Hanna needs it...

"In the morning," Hanna murmurs, burrowing himself into Conrad's chest. "Just... nap now."

Conrad sighs. He wants to tell Hanna that it's nighttime, and there's no way he can sleep, but by the time he tries, Hanna's already curled up on him and snoring.

Might as well let him sleep. Slowly, Conrad slips an arm around Hanna's waist, holding him in place.

He knows he shouldn't, but he could get used to this.


End file.
